The Life and Times of Rodrick Heffley
by Dusty Secrets
Summary: After moving out of the folks' home and rooming up with fellow band member and companion Ward, Rodrick faces new challenges with paying rent and trying to make it big as a rockstar. Rodrick really gets a taste of the 'mature adult life' now that he's gone down the path that his little bro Greg wouldn't even dare think about taking, but just how far can this guy really go in life?
1. May 17th: I Made It

***Please read the author's note at the end* Enjoy**

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_May 17th_

I did it. I actually fuckin' did it.

I passed high school, bro. YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Whooo! I can't fuckin' believe it! I didn't think it was possible! I mean, I really need to appreciate the system's acceptance of 'D' being a passing grade, 'cause I got 'em all around. Not that it matters now! Naw, brah, I'm gettin' myself a dee-ploma :)

I told my bud Ward of the news this mornin' when I found out that I have all the credits I needed. He had a bit of a cow himself, actually. Ya see, my man Ward never managed to graduate high school, cause in reality, he's a fuckin' idiot. Not that I'd ever say that to his face though, he's still my guy.

The folks are pretty proud too, which is a definite first, I'll say. Ma and Pa have never appreciated really anything that I've done all my life, probably because this is the only 'good' thing that I've ever really accomplished.

The younger bro Greg also showed his gratitude by giving me a raised eyebrow and an exclamation of "Uh...wow...congrats, Rod." Huh, guess he didn't think I'd make it either, not that I can or should blame 'im.

I whipped my graduation attire from the closet to see a heap of dust fall from it. Honestly, I wasn't so sure that I'd be needing it, and the ol' folks were thinking the same thing when they told me to just "Keep it in there until your brother needs it for his graduation."

Fuckin' chumps…

Had no faith in me whatsoever, it seemed. I mean, yeah, I've never been one to hold a fantastic or even clean rep, but how the shit does that determine my abilities to succeed in life? Hey, I can smoke bud and drink all the booze I want and still maintain a grand GPA of 2.6! I say it's time the old man and gal get their shit together on they're little thoughts and expectations of me.

Well, not that I have much else to really blab on about at the moment, but I guess I should get downstairs and tell the younger bro that we're throwin' a pre-grad partay right after Ma and Pa are out the door off to that spa or whatever.

Eh, I guess I'll be getting to that then, peace.

-Rod

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**A/N:** This is Rodrick's overall life perspective. It is a spin-off of my other story that is told through Greg's eyes, 'Diary of a Wimpy Kid: Freshman Follies', yet, through the viewpoint of Rodrick.

This is not a sequel to my other DoaWP fanfic and you do not have to read the other story in order to read this one to understand what's going on. That is purely optional.

Keep in mind that Rodrick will use poor spelling and grammar from time to time, for he really isn't the most literate person out there, he he.. as exampled in this segment.

_Disclaimer: All rights to Jeff Kinney. I am borrowing his characters for entertainment purposes only; no profit is being made._

Rated M for mostly language as well as drug references, dealing and adult situations.

Chapters in this story will not be as long as in my other fic for this category, and will also contain far more dirty language from the rebellious lips of our Rod ;)

Thanks for checking this out, and expect more soon. I generally am unable to just spit out chaps so I may or may not update weekly, but we'll have to wait and see :)

Review if you feel the need to express your regards. I know there really isn't a lot to go on yet.

-DS


	2. May 18th: Throwin' a Party

_May 18th_

Ok, now I got a lotta shit to say, and I know my right hand's gonna be fuckin' soar by the time I'm through writing this entry.

So Right Hand: Prepare your ass, dude.

Once I told my bro that we were throwing a party once the folks and the little man were right out that front door, he put on his usual dorky defenses.

"Uh, I don't think that would be such a wise idea, Rodrick. Don't ya remember what happened last time?"

As if I DON'T. God, I really wish the kid would take a few risks here and there, such a damn wimp, I swear…

I had no choice but to take him by the neck and wring it a little to get his full attention. I shoved him into the wall and threatened "Listen up, pal, if you dare even _think_ about telling mom and dad about this, I will KILL you you little shit!"

He immediately backed away, the little pussy.

I told him to go and fetch some extra chairs, plates, silverware and other shit from our basement, and he did so like a motherloving slave, I tell ya. God, I gotta love that kid sometimes. So conveniently obedient when I get to his nerdy little head.

Then I was out the door with my keys to the Diper, ready to hit the local 7-11 for some snacks and shit. I checked my wallet for my fake ID so I could purchase some booze while there, and I had it set to go. On the way, I phoned my man Ward and told him to get his fat ass over to my place for the pre-grad party that was happening. He was all for it, man, just as I expected. The man's a BEAST when it comes to partying, and I knew well that I had better be bringing home quite the load of alchy if I wanted to satisfy the taste of ol' Ward, for no bottle or two is gonna get his ass tipsy, nope.

Once at the place, I headed for the fridge section and hastily went for the party packs of Coors. At that moment I really wished that I would have considered stopping at Ward's flat to get him to help me load all the booze into the van, cause I would be having an ungodly amount to carry out there for sure, and I knew that I'd have to make more than a couple trips, for I can't carry 'em all like ol' Ward can.

Yeah, yeah, I don't lift, bro…

Anyway, what was done was done, so I stacked the load of boxed up cans on the counter along with some bags of chips, deli meat, a couple bottles of soda and yeah. The clerk was an Indian man somewhere in his forties, and hey, I'm not stereotypical or whatever, but he looked like terrorist material to me with his turban and all.

He raised his brows at me, AS IF I looked underage to him, huh, moron. I withdrew my lucky ID and proved that I was '21'. He shrugged and rang me up to like fifty bucks, which was no prob for me, since I had Pa's wallet with me to accompany mine. Goofy bastard left it home while him and Ma took her credit cards, the losers.

Then, after making like three trips in and out since the clerk was kind enough to remain where he was behind the counter, I hit the road back yonder.

Once back at the abode, I got out and dragged all the shit in using Dan's guitar case. I found it quite convenient actually.

The kid was just bringing up the last of our foldable chairs from downstairs when he saw my purchases and went all wide eyed like he had just seen a freaking ghost or something.

"R-Rodrick, w-where….how did you get alcohol?" he muttered like the goddamn chicken he is.

I couldn't help but laugh a good one at his evident innocence. Damn, that kid can crack me up with his careful ways.

"Fake ID, bro," I so generously informed while popping a brewsky open for myself and chugging like a champ.

His next gesture really set me off. He crossed his arms like he was goddamned Principal Henry or something, and scolded "Well, where did you get a fake ID?"

Shit, did that boy reek of jealousy, too.

"None of your damn business," I said right back in just as rude a manner as he did. Jerk. For the record, Ward knew a guy, and I only had to chip in a hundred for the photography, personal recording and make. Helluva deal too, I'd say. Looks authentic as fuck!

I plucked a fresh bottle from the case and playfully tossed it towards the bro, expecting him to catch it, but hell if I know why I expected such. He missed it drastically, allowing it to collide with the carpet below, luckily not breaking. I scoffed.

"PSSH...what a klutz," I sighed. "Yo, go and get the cooler out of the garage, pronto. I hope you can do that properly." He rolled his eyes and wisely did as he was told. Good kid.

Now I had to get to business. I called up my girl Heather and told her to get her pretty little ass over here, and she, of course, agreed to in a heartbeat, being my doting babe and all. Fuck, I feel it for that woman.

Then I called up some of my bros from school, Tosh and Nate, and they had nothing better to do. I told them to tell their Junior buds to come on over as well, for there was plenty of beer to pass around.

Then I got ahold of Dan and Bill from the band, and they were in under the conditions that there was booze and preferably joints to pass out. I could stand my ground on the beer, but I told them they would have to find some weed themselves, unless Ward brought some along, which he was kinda bound to anyways, being the druggie pothead he is.

I reckoned that was good for now, cause I knew my woman and the fellas from school had friends of there own to drag here, but I had to keep my fingers crossed that not too many people would be arriving, for I didn't want my little bro to put his back out cleaning all the mess in the end. Yeah, _I_ wasn't gonna fuckin' do it.

Speaking of Greg, what was I going to do with him? Last time, I locked him up in the hall closet upstairs cause I knew he'd make a goddamn dork out of himself, but he was just twelve then. Now, he is a _little_ older, maybe more mature and whatnot, but he's still a dork. Hell, I guessed that he deserved a chance at least, and I knew he wouldn't bother talking to anyone anyways. The kid's pretty shy after all.

Eh, he got himself one chance, and if he fucked up in any way, shape or form, then it was the closet for him, or some other lockable space in our shithole.

I turned on the tube and set up the MTV channel, surely an all around fave, right? Jersey Shore was playing at the time, and shit did I hope that it wasn't a marathon, but then again, if it was, then Comedy Central or HBO would do as a back-up plan i guessed.

I set up some of my nice bongs by the sofa for free usage, compliments of the host, and I set out the deli meat, bread, chips and other shit out on the kitchen counter for the guests to shove their faces with. I put the cooler just outside the living room.

My guests came around at 9 or so, right on time in my book. I felt a bit uneasy at the size of the crowd that arrived, but shrugged it off once I remembered that I had my own personal maid to clean up once the party was over, and Ward if he was sober enough.

Ne' mind, he really wouldn't be. No way possible.

Once my chick was through my front door, I smacked her cute little ass harder than I ever had, obtaining a squeal from her in return. She then giggled and pecked me on the cheek and playfully told me to "Oh, stop it you." I had my hopes up that I'd be receiving more from that mouth of hers later ;)

Eventually, at around 10 or so, ol' Ward came trampling through the door after nearly crashing his van into our mailbox outside, the fucking dumbass.

With a large flask in his meaty left hand and his shirt unevenly buttoned up halfway, he crooned "SUUUUUUUUUP, BRAH!"

I facepalmed. "I hope you're not too hammered already, man. I'm not driving ya to the ER at 3 in the morning again. Ever."

With an off gaze, he replied "Yeah, yeah, then. It's all good, spud."

Spud? WTF…

I sighed. At that moment, I almost regretted even inviting his ass, due to just how much of a party animal he can become. From the looks of his bloodshot eyes, sloppy appearance and breath that stank of liquor, I could figure out that he had partied before the party. It wasn't a first, that's for sure.

He shoved me aside at the doorway and announced his arrival in an obnoxious and booming manner by hollering "THE WARD MAN HAS MADE IT, BROS AND BITCHES!"

Applause followed his annunciation. Maybe this night wouldn't be so bad after all. From the looks of it, it appeared everyone was well acquainted as it was, and hell, some looked to be having a blast too.

Now it was my turn. Being the Host, I knew I had a duty to make sure everyone had what they needed, whether that be a fresh can of Coors or the remote to change the channel, but I wanted to get off on this somehow myself too.

That's when I knew what I had to do. I had to locate my girl so I could get her downstairs and into my bedroom, unless it was already being used. Upstairs could do if that was the case, where I'd be getting the choices of the folks room, Greg's or Manny's with great reluctance, for I would just feel kinda awkward about banging on a six year olds sleeping area.

My insides went aflame with what I saw next. Dancing with my woman with his hands on her waist was none other than the dork. Was he flirting with my babe? That couldn't be…

Pissed, I marched on over there and presented myself for the two, catching them in the act they just may have had plans of making.

Heath smiled at me. Once I saw that can of beer in her hand I wanted to smile too, cause that signalled her likely drunkenness, hence a higher probability of sex that night ;)

Still, I had to remain serious and punish my bro for trying to put the moves on my girl, the little ametuer player.

"Come with me," I told him in a dark tone, hoping that I'd scared him shitless. I think I had. He just stood there shaking like a fool. I took his wrist and yanked him to the basement door.

"Rodrick, what is it-" he tried but failed.

"Go downstairs and bring up a few more chairs," I said, presuming that would work out as I had planned. It would anyways. I jerked the door open and shoved him through, then slammed it shut and locked 'er up. Heck, what can I say? He shouldn't have fucked up.

Now I had to shower my girl with accusatory questions, before all else, if ya know what I mean ;)

"What the hell, babe?" I said pissed.

"What, Rod? I was just getting your little brother to socialize, God…"

"Didn't look like that to me, sweetheart," I accused, really just having fun at this point.

"Pff, whatever. He just looked all lonely and bored over here so I decided to be kind and make some conversation. What, do you actually think he was going to hit on me? He's just a shy kid, you moron."

Oh, she was grinding my gears now. Moron huh? It was time to teach her a little lesson.

I went for her arm and said "Come on."

"What, no! Now I'm upset with you!"

"How about you keep those female driven feelings to yourself until we hit my…."

Dammit.

"Ah, shit. Probably shoulda' shoved the bro into the closet again instead...Well, I can't free him now, that kid can run, I tell ya, and I'd probably never catch him…"

My woman sighed next to me, letting me know that she was getting bored. I could not let that happen. 'Ight, plan B then.

"Follow me upstairs."

I dragged her up the flight while she put up little fight, either because she was feeling just as horny as myself or she was just too shitfaced to retaliate. Or both.

I was pretty pissed to see that both my folks bedroom and Greg's were in use, judging the closed doors with socks hanging off the knobs.

"Shit."

I looked down the hall at my youngest bro's open door. It would have to do. I tugged her down the hall and threw her into the room. I wasn't wearing socks at the time, so I got one of Manny's socks out of his drawer and hung it over the doorknob, for it was too small to fit over it properly.

I locked the door and turned around to see that my girl did not look pleased. Her arms were crossed in a way similar to Greg's arm crossing earlier, and I knew what I had coming right then.

"Rodrick, I am not going to sleep with you in your little brother's bedroom."

"Whaaaaat?" I teased. "It won't be soo bad." I took the liberty to lunge for her and shove her onto the tiny as fuck mattress. Maybe this would be more awkward than I thought. While we frenched like a couple of newlyweds on Spanish fly, I fished around in my pocket to pull out a crumpled condom. Things were about to get heated-

"Rod, I don't think I can get very wet with Foofa staring at me like that."

"What?"

She pointed to Manny's larger than life wall poster of the entire gang from his favorite kiddie show Yo Gabba Gabba. Christ, the chick had a point. It was intimidating enough trying to comfortably screw on this cot of a bed, and even more unarousing to have the Teletubbies cousin's gawk at us while we hammer. I think our intoxicated states just intensified things though.

"Just ignore it, babe," I groaned, wanting to get down to business right now.

I'll admit that it was even worse than the time we did it in a Porta John at the county fair a couple months ago. I sure as hell hoped that my little man would upgrade by the time he had his own girl to drag to his bed, cause I don't think any chick could handle a good fuck on such a dinky piece of shit.

Eh, but we managed. It was like midnight when I was snoozing on the mattress using my girl's sexy washboard stomach as a pillow. I was on the brink of passing out when I heard the dreadful ringtone of JB's hit 'Boyfriend' go off.

"Answer it** quick**, babe," I growled, all too willing to not have that shit music stuck in my head all night.

She yawned and began chatting away to seemingly her own little sis. When she was through she got up and began to dress.

"I have to go. Holly is having boy troubles, I guess. Need's a sister's wise counselling."

"Ya consider yourself 'wise' doll?" I laughed, only to receive a middle finger.

"Says the dick who picked out his six year old brother's bedroom to make love!"

"Cool it, I was only teasin' sugar."

"Whatever, bye." She slammed the door with a powerful shove. Damn, she didn't even leave me her panties…

Well, I got up myself and put my clothes back on. I was almost afraid to go out there and see what damage my guests had done to this place so far. Walkin' down the hall I noticed that Greg's door was open and the sock was gone. The carpet appeared clean so far, and it was more the downstairs area I was worried about, for Greg to clean later, that was.

Downstairs, I ran into my bud Tosh. He had my best bong in his hand and his eyes were like really red. He smirked crookedly at me and threw his arm around my shoulder. He was even more dazed than me.

"Great party, dude. I happened to see your girlfriend coming down the stairs looking kinda disheveled...ya two have some fun?"

With pride, I admitted "Ah yeah, brah. You know it."

He high-fived me like we were a couple of freshly unvirginized sophomores again. Well, Freshman in my case.

"Yo, where's Nate?" I asked.

"Huh, haven't seen 'im round in the last hour."

"Eh, okay then. You have fun, man. I gotta take a whizz right about now."

I waved him off and headed for our bathroom. I was glad to find the door unlocked. I opened 'er up and took a step inside then closed the door. It wasn't until I had my pants unzipped until I noticed something from the corner of my eye.

I looked to my left to see that Ward was stark nude in my bathtub. His hairy legs were resting on the ledge on the other side and the water was filled high enough to just barely reach his naval. The sight made me scream in shock at first glance.

His eyes shot open at my gasp. "Whadda….what!" he grumbled, being the fucking idiot he is.

"Ward?! What the fuck, dude?"

"Eh...Just using the jacuzzi, my man. No harm done, eh?"

"Jac—jacuzzi? Idiot, that's a normal fucking bathtub! Now get out! I have to piss, and I'm not about to do it in front of ya!"

"Chill my fella, chill. Ya see, I made it _like_ a jacuzzi, since the water that I'm like submerged all in is like, toasty and stuff. Then I add a little gas passing for bubbles n' suds. I also used some uh…"

He picked up Manny's blueberry bash shampoo.

"Bubba bath."

I rolled my eyes. Why had I even become friends with this damn retard in the first place? I was paying to the high heavens for it now. I facepalmed for him the second time so far in a night.

To make matters worse, he then lifted his right arm from underneath the water to reveal one of my best bongs in his grip.

"Brought some of me own maryjane, brah."

Ok, now I was really pissed.

"FUCK! Ward, what in God's name told you it is _ok_ to soak a fucking bong under water? Huh? You've not only tainted my weed smokin' device with your dirty bathwater but you're also gonna clog the drain with the leaked marijuana leaves!"

A stoic and dazed look overcame his expression. He scratched his scalp and groaned "Shit I do shan't concern you."

I clenched my fist. "Out of my fuckin' tub, man."

I tossed a towel at the floor by his clothes and left the bathroom to wait outside. I hoped that he'd hurry his ass up. He was out like five minutes later. I almost panicked a little when I saw him heading upstairs, but had to relieve my bladder too damn badly to think about stopping him.

He didn't drain the bathwater, and he left my bong in the tub, the fucking douche. Well, I sure as hell wasn't sticking my bare hand in there to pluck out the plug. Either he himself would do it later or I'd get the kid to do it in the morning whenever I decided to let him out.

Aside from that, I hoped that he wasn't fucking up my bedroom down there too badly. He was surely pissed that I yet again locked him up like some wild animal, but I knew he is also too freaking docile to bother tearing up my personal space. In fact, I was certain that he'd even make my bed once he was done using it for the night. He's a pretty good kid, actually.

For the rest of the night, I was shaking people's hands, learning a thing or two about some excellent drumming techniques, and even hitting the bong throughout the next eight or so hours. It was helluva party, I'd say.

**XXX**

So by 9 in the mornin', just about everyone had cleared out. My guests had left one sorry mess for Greg to clean before the folks were to come back home at like noon or whatev.

I had passed out on the couch god knows how long ago. I rose to my feet to see beer cans littered amongst the floor as well as crushed potato chips. Shit. I decided that now would be a great time to get the kid up to help me clean up, otherwise we'd both be in for it big time later on.

Once I was in front of the basement door, I heard quick running up the stairs. Ah good, that means Greg is full of energy and ready to get to work, I thought. Eh, got a bit of a different, more horrifying outcome.

I opened up the door and caught a mere fucking glimpse of him rushing past me like a schizo Speedy fuckin' Gonzalez. The next thing I heard was something loudly crashing to the floor along with another thud.

I turned my sore neck to my right to see that he had fucking miraculously thrown himself into our TV and knocked it down roughly to the non-carpeted area of the floor, definitely breaking it.

I couldn't fucking believe what I had just seen.

God himself just _had_ to be **shitting** me.


End file.
